


Taylor and the Shadows

by OtterMcKilbourne (p_3a)



Series: NaNoWriMo 2014 [18]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-20
Packaged: 2018-02-26 10:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2648540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_3a/pseuds/OtterMcKilbourne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spires of Arak spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taylor and the Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> required pre-reading:  
> 1\. http://wowpedia.org/Quest:Old_Friends_(Spires_of_Arak)#Quest_progression  
> 2\. http://draka-daughter-of-zuura.tumblr.com/post/102565234511/katieskarlette-admiral-taylors-garrison-log
> 
> I recommend you read link #2 alongside this fic

**DAY 3**

"You're still entirely sure about this, Goya? You know, I'm not completely convinced they won't turn on you. We don't  _need_  to do this, after all." Wrathion sipped his tea. It tasted unfamiliar; everything about this world did. "We could simply return to Azeroth."

"Very sure, Black Prince." She pressed the palms of her paws together and rest her cheek on both of them, smirking. "The Alliance are not so clever in my experience as to put two and two together in matters like this. They will assume you stole from me. Or at least, I will tell them that if they ask me. Which they won't."  
"Still. You  _are_  putting your reputation on the line for me, and I know how important that is for a person in your line of business."  
"No, Prince, do not be mistaken. You are a good business partner, but not so much that I would do such a thing for  _you_. I asked  _very_  nicely and one of the little bronze drakes we sell on the auction house showed me what would happen if I didn't, that's all." She smiled pleasantly, and like always - she intended it this way - it made Wrathion feel nauseous, like he'd eaten sugar. "It's no good trying to run a business on a dead planet, as my Ethereal partners always say."

Wrathion grinned. "That is very true, Madame. I'm glad you are as discerning as your reputation suggests."  
"If you waste my gifts, I shan't hesitate in dragging you for every penny you're worth," she smiled.  
"I shan't." He put his cup down. "You have my word on that."

-

**DAY 12**

"Are you ready, my Prince?" Right whispered, inches from Wrathion's ear.  
He simply nodded.  
"Then go. We're right behind you."

Wrathion took off. His outfit had been distressed, on purpose, in preparation for what he was about to do. Forcing his breathing quick and ragged and picking up pace on his feet, he ran through the forest of Arak for around a quarter-mile before running into the patrol they'd picked out. Alliance banners and an impressive-looking champion, military medals shining on his tabard, were heading down one of the gloomy forest paths - he practically bumped into them, effecting panic in his face and his tone.

"You have to help me!"  
"Who goes there?!" The champion reached for his sword, and the rest of the patrol copied him. Wrathion had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.  
"I am Wrathion, the Black Prince, wanted  _alive_  by your High King," he said, keeping his voice high-pitched and lightly trembling. He glanced behind himself, pretending to look for an enemy that wasn't coming - because it didn't really exist. "The ogres in this place mean to kill me, and therefore I seek asylum in your stronghold!"  
"--it's true, Sir," said one of the patrol guards, "I read it in the papers! He hit Prince Anduin over the head!"  
Wrathion's eyes flashed and he locked his gaze on the patrol guard, who sank down. He was about to correct them - he didn't  _hit him_ , he used a  _fainting spell_  - when the leader spoke up.  
"Very well," he said, "there is an outpost not far from here. We will take you there. But  _no_  funny business!"

-

**DAY 13**

This "house arrest" thing might be boring, but in all fairness, it did put Wrathion exactly where he wanted to be. And it gave Right an easy opportunity to infiltrate the town guard and listen in on what had been going on - to see if there were, as Wrathion hoped, any interesting artefacts being kept in the garrison. That was the plan, after all: the Alliance were here, in part, to look for artefacts. Wrathion would keep the most powerful ones for his project, and pass the others to Goya to turn a profit on; and while he was here, he could scout for potential champions too. Easy.

It was, Wrathion had learned, the garrison of Admiral Taylor. He'd met Taylor before, briefly, when he'd visited Anduin one day in the Tavern in the Mists; they seemed to be friends. Wrathion made a mental note not to hurt the Admiral (on purpose, anyway). There was no point in upsetting Anduin any more than he already had.

Something was starting to worry him, though.

He could sense magic; dark magic, nothing the Alliance would ever allow legally. He knew Taylor's full military record; he knew almost all of the others by name now he'd had a day to orientate himself, and he'd gotten Left on the case of researching them. Sir Harris, for example - the man who had brought him in - had an extensive history of donating extra wages to the Cathedral of Light, and the campaign he got his medal from was Northrend, where he'd bravely saved a group of both Alliance  _and_  Horde civilians from a brutal Scourge onslaught. Bryan and Alice Finn were just Stormwind citizens; this was their first trip beyond the city walls. Lady Claudia, the astute woman who had threatened him with a gun when he'd first been brought into the garrison, had spent a few years living in Ironforge and studying ballistics with their engineers. None of them had any reason to be casting the kind of magic Wrathion had sensed.

There was one member of the garrison Left hadn't been able to find anything on, though. And Right had just notified him that she'd seen him sneaking off into the forest on his own.

< _Ephial, you say?_ > He rubbed his chin with one hand; there was a book in his lap, to make it look for his guards as though he was concentrating on reading it and not on what he was really doing - communicating with his agents via the bloodgems on his headband. < _And Left couldn't find anything at all?_ >  
< _Nothing, Sir. And he's had a history of disappearing at crucial moments. I read Taylor's garrison log. They had an Iron Horde attack a few days before we arrived, but Ephial was still missing for hours afterwards, and there were a lot of backstabbed casualties._ >  
< _I don't like this._ >  
< _You should warn Taylor,_ > Right said, plainly.  
< _Well, I'd love to, only he doesn't seem to trust me very much, does he?_ >  
< _Then you should start paying off the guards. Keep Taylor safe; keep yourself safe._ >  
< _Good idea. Do keep tracking this... "Ephial"'s whereabouts._ >  
< _Yes, Sir._ >

-

**DAY 16**

"Sir, Taylor's asked to see us later," one of the guards said. "I think he's going to ask us to watch you more closely. What with... everything strange that's going on," they said, swallowing. "What should we tell him?"  
"Tell him the truth," Wrathion said, spreading his hands wide with the palms up. "Why, I told you, I'm not here to lie to you. Tell him I'm paying you to keep an eye on him. To keep him safe. And do remind him to watch Ephial."  
"...are you sure? He might be angry with you..."  
"And is he not perfectly angry with me already?" Wrathion smirked, leaning back in his chair. "As long as he is not angry with  _you_ , I see no problem."  
The guard gave a small smile. "Very well, Sir."

-

DAY 21

"Leaving?! He's leaving?!"  
"Later today, Sir. And he's taking Claudia and Harris with him!"  
"Harris too?!" Wrathion slammed his book shut. "Jones, all the people I told you about over the last few days, I need you to get them together. We're skipping town."  
"But Sir--! The Garrison will crumble without--"  
"The Garrison is going to crumble anyway!" Jones shrank back a little, so Wrathion softened his tone - and lowered it, too - though it didn't lose any of its urgency. "Taylor taking both himself  _and_  his second in command out on the same mission is an idiot rookie move, not one from an established and successful commander of several campaigns! And he's leaving Dunberlin in charge of security?! Ridiculous! He's never trusted Dunberlin  _or_  Ephial and now he's suddenly leaving them the entire Garrison?!  _Think_ , Jones! We know Ephial's been using dark magic! This is a lost cause. We need to get as many people as we can  _out_  as fast as we can. All our favoured champions, and any civilians that will listen."  
"--Y-Yes, Sir." Jones scuttled to the door. "Wh-- Where should I gather them?"  
"Southport, with a view to travel to Elodor. In groups of no less than two!"  
"Yessir!"

This was not what Wrathion had wanted out of this visit at all.

-

**DAY 30**

"It's happened, Your Majesty." Left slid the report across Wrathion's desk.

Well, it was an upturned crate, but Wrathion was used to making-do ever since he'd left the Tavern.

He skimmed it. "Just as expected," he murmured. "And you've confirmed Taylor was among the casualties?"  
"They all were, sir. Not a living soul save Ephial himself, if you could call him alive. SI:7 were around the area when I left, so the Alliance should find out soon."  
He sighed, and filed the report away. "Very well. And you've ensured rumours reached all of the champions we rescued ahead of time?"  
"Yes, Your Majesty. They're all very aware of how lucky they are that you were involved."  
"Excellent. That will be all, Left."  
"Sir."

Wrathion rubbed his forehead. He knew the Alliance would spin his involvement badly, somehow, if Taylor's garrison log was ever discovered. Maybe even up his bounty. Again. It was important to have those voices among the faction to speak out in his favour, if it ever actually came to a trial. Especially given he was sure Anduin would be furious at him for happening to have been present when one of his favourite commanders was turned into an undead aberration by a rogue necromancer. Even more furious than he already was over the entire... temple basement. Affair.

Not that it  _would_  ever come to a trial - or even an argument, if Wrathion didn't want it to. Wrathion was, after all, even better at disappearing into thin air than Garrosh Hellscream was.


End file.
